


Rain Again

by Thalius



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Character Study, Everyone is tired, Fluff and Humor, Gen, One Shot, Smoking, Trench Warfare, Tumblr Prompt, Use of the Force
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:27:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24423496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thalius/pseuds/Thalius
Summary: Cody didn’t pretend to know what it was the general did when he knelt down in the middle of their camp and began to pray, he just knew that it worked and that it took a lot out of him.And now he had to go ask him to do it again.
Relationships: CC-2224 | Cody & Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 29
Kudos: 590





	Rain Again

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a tumblr prompt that got a little out of hand.

“Is that Peel returning, sir?”

Cody looked up from the chart spread on the table and squinted, trying to see through the rain. He spotted a trooper approaching the command tent slowly, a faint limp to his walk. This many weeks into their occupation, none of them ran anywhere.

He let out a sigh. “Yeah, it is.”

Stead glanced towards the barracks. “Should I wake the general?”

“No, I’ll do it.” He looked down at his chrono and held back a curse. Fifty-eight minutes ago, Kenobi had been nodding off from the other side of the command table. Only under significant badgering did he finally relent and head to the barracks tent for some rest, leaving them with instructions to wake him in four hours unless there was another attack. Cody had planned on giving him six, but it looked like that wouldn’t be happening any time soon. The commander didn’t pretend to know what it was the general did when he knelt down in the middle of their camp and began to pray, he just knew that it worked and that it took a lot out of him. 

And now he had to go ask him to do it again.

Peel scuffed his boots on the mat outside and ducked into the tent with a sigh. “Commander—”

“Another attack, I know.” 

“Just a sighting, actually,” Peel corrected him. “But they’re approaching the camp. I figure they’ll be by the front gate within twenty minutes if they keep up their current pace.”

Cody thought for a moment. “Do you have eyes on them still?” Perhaps they wouldn’t have to wake the general. Perhaps they could finally get a handle on rooting them out without—

“No,” Peel admitted, killing Cody’s hopeful line of thought. “It’s too hard to see. But we confirmed the sighting.”

“Very well.” Cody shoved away from the table and nodded to Stead. “Make sure the snipers are ready.” Then he glanced at Peel. Even under his bucket, he could tell the man was beat. “When’s your shift done, trooper?”

“Uh—” he frowned down at his wrist. “Two hours yet, sir.”

“Your duty partner still awake?”

“Cable,” Peel responded, nodding. “He was when I left him, sir.”

“Good. You can park yourself there for a few minutes, take a breather.” He nodded to the upturned ration bucket by the door. Peel didn’t need to be told twice.

Cody didn’t bother with his helmet. It was a short walk to the barracks tent, and the rain was about as close to a shower as he’d get on this planet. They’d ran out of caf eight days ago, so he’d have to rely on bad weather and blaster fire to keep him awake.

Pushing aside the tent curtain, Cody stepped into the barracks and looked around for the general. Amidst the snoring and rumbling of the other men, Kenobi was sleeping quietly on the closest cot he’d been able to find. The longer into this occupation they got, the less elegantly the general slept. By this point he was asleep on his side, face pressed into the pillow, arm hanging off one edge of the cot.

Cody sighed and walked up to his bunk, setting a gentle hand on the man’s shoulder and shaking it. “General,” he whispered, not wanting to wake the other men, but he probably could have shouted and it wouldn’t have made a difference. “Sir, I’m sorry, but—”

Kenobi groaned and rolled onto his back, his face scrunched into a frown. He hadn’t opened his eyes yet. “Cody,” he murmured, a hand coming up to rub at his face, his beard scratching against his palm. “What time is it?”

“Just past noon, sir.”

“Lovely,” he muttered, and grabbed Cody’s arm for support as he pulled himself up from the bunk. Sitting hunched over the edge of the cot, he rolled his shoulders and tried to wake himself up. “Another attack, I presume?”

“A sighting, sir.”

“Good. We might get the jump on them for once.”

All of them had injuries by now, patched up with field kits and a good attitude. Kenobi was no exception; the hard underbrush of the planet had been a curse to everyone’s ankles, his own included. Cody kept his arm braced steady as the general stood up, who had a hard grip on his vambrace as they limped towards the entrance, only pausing to grab his saber and clip it to his belt.

“Is there anything hot to drink?” Kenobi asked, shielding his eyes as they stepped outside. It was hardly sunny out, but everything about this planet was harsh.

“I could get the boys to boil some water, sir,” Cody suggested, earning a wry glance from the general.

“I’m not quite that desperate yet,” he responded. “But I’ll need food.”

Cody found an idle trooper and sent him to the supply tent for something edible, then called Peel over to follow them. He focused on keeping the general steady as he guided him towards the front of the camp. Kenobi was too exhausted to answer most of the hellos he got from passing troopers, doing his best to stay awake. His robes, once freshly starched and pressed, were now a rumpled, splotchy light brown—a mixture of blood, mud and sweat that never seemed to wash away no matter how hard it rained. 

Cody set him down by the forward gate, just behind one of their few remaining artillery guns. It was useless by this point; the Separatists had long since pulled back their forces, and now they had to contend with the scattered wildlife instead, wreaking havoc on their camp and avoiding every possible scanner the 212th has access to. Cody preferred droids to the Screechers, but he kept that opinion to himself, knowing it would sound like whinging if he brought it up.

This close to the gates, Cody had purposefully tried to get rid of anything that could be considered a seat to keep the men on their feet, so Kenobi made do with one of the gun struts. He slicked back his now-wet hair with a tired hand, ignoring or unaware of the streaks of dirt running in thin rivulets down his face. “Let’s hear it,” he murmured, blinking heavily.

“Peel,” Cody turned to the trooper beside him, gesturing to Kenobi. “Tell the general what you saw.”

The kid stepped up with a nod. If Cody had more energy, he’d feel bad for the shiny; this was his first stint with the 212th. “Cable spotted a couple of Screechers heading this way, sir, towards the main gate. I don’t think they know we’ve seen them.”

A trooper ran up and handed the general a ration bar, who accepted it with a gracious nod. “How many exactly?” he asked, unwrapping the bar.

“Visibility is shot with the rain,” Peel replied. “We think no more than four.”

“Four,” Kenobi repeated, his brow drawn in a frown. “I can manage that. Thank you, Peel.”

He nodded and began to back away. “Of course, sir.”

“Peel?”

The trooper turned, pausing in his step. “Yes, sir?”

“The contraband cigarettes you’re carrying,” Kenobi said, making the man go still. “They’re caffeine rolls, are they not?”

“Um.” Peel glanced at Cody, his bucket twitching as he tried to figure out where to look. “I’m not sure what you’re—talking about, sir—”

“In your utility pouch,” Kenobi continued, a small smile playing at his lips. “I’d like one, if you can spare it.”

Cody kept a straight face, giving the trooper a hard look. It was always the same joke, the same punchline, but it never failed to tickle him to watch shinies try to lie to Jedi.

“Right.” With visible reluctance, Peel reached for his belt. While he dug around for the pack, Kenobi glanced back at Cody.

“Don’t tell Anakin,” he said to the commander, finishing off the ration bar. “I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“If it makes you feel better, sir, I don’t think he’d believe you if you told him.”

Kenobi huffed. “Quite right.” 

Peel cleared his throat, pulling out a roll. “I don’t have any… uh, any fresh ones,” he said by way of apology, avoiding Cody’s gaze and holding out a cigarette to the general. It had been lit and snuffed out several times, the tip a ragged brown. Cody had smoked caffeine rolls before; they were unpleasant enough when fresh.

“That’s alright. A light, please.”

Peel set him up with the last of his cigarette, then practically sprinted back to his scouting post with Cable. Kenobi exchanged a knowing look with Cody, taking a drag from the roll.

“Horrid things,” he commented, twisting his mouth up in distaste and watching the smoke curl lazily in the air, buffeted by the ever-present drizzle. “I’d leave the Order for a fresh cup of tea.”

“Are you well enough to do this, General?” Cody asked, frowning at how tired he looked.

“I’ll have to be,” Kenobi replied with an unpleasant cough, taking another drag. “We still need to capture one of them for study, and we can’t afford another strike. Would you like some of this?” he added, holding out the roll to Cody.

“I’m fine, sir, thank you.”

Cody looked towards the main gate, frowning. They’d rebuilt their barricades dozens of times, only for the Screechers to knock them down come the next morning. Thus far, they’d proven to be a lot more trouble than droids; they avoided all possible sensors and were virtually invisible in the harsh brushland, moving swiftly and silently—until they didn’t. The boys had nicknamed the things Screechers, a fitting title. Cody would have given them a much fouler name, but that would likely cause problems in their written reports.

The general quickly finished what was left of the roll, snuffing out the ember on the strut he was sitting on and tossing the paper butt. Cody had gotten pretty good at reading the man’s face by now, and could tell he was mentally preparing himself. Since they’d landed on the planet, the only successful tactic they had against the Screechers was to sit the general down and let him feel around for them—with the Force, with his mind, however it worked. He was their scanner, giving directions to the troopers they sent out to find and kill the things. Three weeks ago, the general would lead the team himself to root them out in the brush, but they’d been whittled down to simply reacting to Screecher attacks with sniper fire from their scouting towers, and even that was becoming too much to bear. Skywalker along with the 501st had been slated to relieve them a week ago, but the Separatists forces the 212th had been fighting down here were now raising hell in a dozen different systems, meaning they were on their own for the foreseeable future. Cody didn’t want to think about what would happen once the general was too exhausted to scan the area anymore, but they’d have to begin planning for that eventuality, and soon.

“Help me up,” Kenobi requested, and Cody offered his arm again as the general struggled to his feet, guiding him towards the small tent they’d set up for him. The only thing beneath the tarp was a mat and a topographic layout of the surrounding area—it had effectively become their information centre. He would’ve found it funny if they weren’t so desperate.

“They’re approaching from the east, then,” Kenobi murmured, limping along with Cody. “Four of them.”

“That a problem, sir?”

“If there were eight of them, maybe. Four I can handle.” He held onto one of the tent poles, positioning himself in front of the mat. Cody helped the general kneel down on the ground, troubled by the pained hiss he gave.

“I feel like an old man,” Kenobi groaned goodnaturedly, letting out a sigh as he tried to get comfortable.

Cody pursed his lips, wondering if he should voice his thoughts aloud. The general seemed to be in a decent enough mood, but—

“And I look like one, too,” he added, glancing up at Cody with a knowing look. He smiled back.

“Not my place to comment, sir,” he replied, making him snort.

“If it’s not your place, it isn’t anyone’s.” Kenobi turned back, facing the gate, his hands settling on his knees in loose fists. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, and Cody knew to be quiet then. The general’s brow furrowed, and his lips began to move as he mouthed the prayer.  _ I am one with the Force and the Force is with me. _ Cody had heard it so often in the last few weeks it had begun to play back to him in his dreams.

While the general sought out the Screechers, Cody knelt down beside him and pulled out his comm. He trusted Stead to have readied the scouting snipers, and clicked into their channel, flashing the ready signal twice to alert them. 

Now they just had to wait.

Cody sat down properly beside the general, ignoring how badly his feet throbbed. He studied the map in front of them in the meantime; the contour lines wove intricately throughout the area, with multiple spots flagged by their scouting parties as being particularly harsh terrain. Hilly land combined with harsh scrub was a deadly combination without any other complications, and they were dealing with a lot of those.

The general made a noise, and Cody looked up, holding out his comm at the ready for Kenobi to begin giving instructions. Then he began laughing. The noise was so startling it took a moment for Cody to respond.

“Sir?”

“A confirmed Screecher sighting, you say?” Kenobi asked, not opening his eyes. Cody’s stomach fell.

“That’s what Peel said, sir. Are they mistaken?”

“He and Cable will have to get their eyes checked,” the general said, his mouth twitching. “They spotted lunch, not Screechers. It’s those herbivores we saw before.”

Cody let out a long sigh. “Sir, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“Don’t put away your comm,” Kenobi interrupted him, eyes still closed. They moved rapidly beneath his lids. Cody didn’t ask how the general had sensed his arm pulling away. “I’d like the men to bring a couple in.”

“Sir?”

“If I eat ration bars one more time I’ll go mad,” the general told him. “I’m sure you could use a hot meal as well.”

“I could,” Cody replied, smiling faintly.

“Hail the snipers,” Kenobi instructed, and Cody clicked down the ready status again. “I’ll tell them where to shoot.” 

**Author's Note:**

> find me over on tumblr at [@oriyala](https://oriyala.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
